


Let the world burn (I've already left it)

by LoserLife592



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Butcher Neil Josten, Dark!Andrew, Dark!Neil, M/M, Plotbunnies, debatably dark, he's arguably the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoserLife592/pseuds/LoserLife592
Summary: The funny thing is, Neil still doesn’t like knives. Still doesn’t get the appeal, the obsession, the fascination. He prefers guns. Which is good since, between him and Andrew, he’s the better shot.Not that it matters anyway. Not when there’s a mangled, torn body laying on the floor and Neil is one covered in blood.





	Let the world burn (I've already left it)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Way Down We Go](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070929) by [nekojita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita). 



> Jokes on you if were expecting a lot of story.

The funny thing is, Neil still doesn’t like knives. Still doesn’t get the appeal, the obsession, the _fascination_. He prefers guns. Which is good since, between him and Andrew, he’s the better shot.

Andrew, for all the precision and planning he can put into his kills, actually likes getting his hands dirty. Likes diving in deep—wrapping hands around necks, hitting hard enough to bruise, digging blades in so deep until there’s no more blood left to spill. Likes the power and control.

To each his own, Neil supposes. Not that it matters anyway. Not when there’s a mangled, torn body laying on the floor and Neil is one covered in blood.

“Neil,” Andrew says.

It doesn’t matter when Neil was born into knives and is destined to wield them.

“Neil.” Andrew repeats with a bit more force. Neil’s eyes snap to him even as his body remains still.

Andrew doesn’t look that much different than when they first met—than when they were both on the run. ( _Neil from shadows with sharp smiles and an endless reach, Andrew from pills, police and a family that abandoned him but suddenly wanted him back_ ). His blonde hair is still short, his handsome face is still void of expression, his hazel eyes are still concealing a bottomless pit of rage and violence.

Except Neil has run his hands through that hair, studied that face, stared into those eyes. He can see the underlying tension and concern. He’s had years to learn how to read Andrew.

Neil meets his eyes and his lips twitch into something he hopes is reassuring. Andrews stares at him at length before nodding slightly. Then his gaze drifts to a spot just behind Neil. He follows Andrew’s gaze to stare at Ichirou.

The man is casually seated on a couch on the other side of the room, eyes on the corpse. His face is empty and gives nothing away. Slowly, he stands and makes his way towards Neil. In his periphery, Andrew twitches the slightest amount; represses the urge to step in front of Neil and protect. The armed men on either side of the blonde and stationed around the room remain still.

Ichirou stops at the edge of the plastic covers laid out and meets Neil’s eyes.

“Congratulations Nathaniel,” he says monotonously, “you’ve passed. You’re my new Butcher.”

The title makes Neil inhale sharply. Makes him think of Nathaniel, ( _a scared, abused child who always did his best to be quiet and still lest he receive a worse punishment than usual. A child who feared his father because he was a_ demon). Makes him think of Abram, ( _a lonely, caged boy who was never allowed to stay still—couldn’t stay still lest the monsters catch up with him. A boy who hated his mother because she acted too_ late). Makes him think of Neil, _(a man who stood tall with another pressed to his back and decided that there’s only so far you could run before you either had to turn back, or ended up at the start anyway. A man who not only faced his demons but_ slaughtered them).

Neil bows respectfully—gratefully. “Thank you, my Lord. I will serve you happily.”

Ichirou hums non-committally. He flicks his fingers and, like that, the head of the main Moriyama branch dismisses them.

Andrew is at Neil’s side instantly, broad hand on the small of his back. They’re both led to a room with a change of clothes and sink. They clean up Neil quickly and silently, not a word said between the two until they’re dropped off back at the Wesninski estate.

Neil would honestly prefer to be in a simple one bedroom apartment, if given the choice of living arrangements. In fact, he’d probably rather sleep in homeless shelters than his childhood home. But the Wesninski estate has things like soundproof rooms, a cellar specifically designed for dirty work, and a proximity to the Moriyamas. If anything, they can do some heavy remodelling, Neil supposes.

“So what now?” Andrew asks. His hand is still on Neil’s back and he leads them to the kitchen.

Neil hums. “Don’t know.” They hadn’t made any plans beyond this point. They’d barely made plans about reaching this point. The plans involving the Moriyamas had seemed almost unimportant when they had to focus on how to get around Nathan’s security, how to get to Nathan, how to take him and his men down without being killed, what to do if one of them dies anyway. They’d considered everything from how big a vacuum the Butcher would leave behind, to how to prove to the Moriyamas that Neil was an asset instead of a loose end. But if they’re being honest, neither really expected to live beyond that meeting with Ichirou.

(But then again, neither of them expected to live for as long as they had anyway. Neil’s days were always numbered and Andrew never cared whether or not he drew his next breath—he didn’t really have a reason to).

“Maybe a pet or something?” The corners of Neil’s lips twitch up and Andrew shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’d throw it off the roof.” Andrew retorts, moving away to search the cupboards.

“A cat then. They always land on their feet, right?” Neil is grinning now. “Or a bird so it can just fly away from you.”

Andrew glares as he returns with two glasses and a bottle of vodka. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.”

Neil hums again and accept the glass offered to him. Andrew fills both glasses halfway before putting the bottle on the counter. They clink glasses before knocking back the alcohol. It burns a bit on the way down and leaves a heavy aftertaste in his mouth but Neil is used to it.

Andrew takes the glass and puts them with the bottle on the counter and leans in. Neil meets him halfway.

The first time Neil and Andrew kissed, it’s after they had a run in with Lola and Romero. After they’d burned the bodies and crossed into a different state. It was when they were caught up in ‘you’re alive, I’m alive—I nearly lost you that was too close this can’t happen again _I can’t lose you_ —'. Their lips had met violently and they’d kissed like the world was trying to tear them apart.

When they part and Neil looks into Andrew’s eyes, he sees the same fire that was there when he’d helped torture Nathan. When he helped break the man that tried to break Neil.

 _(Sometimes, Neil thinks that Andrew is so short because the weight of the world that he carries on his shoulders only lets him grow so far_ ).

“They can’t touch you anymore.” Andrew says quietly, lips so close that Neil can feel the words against his skin. And even though Neil knows that, despite getting the position, he still needs to earn his keep, prove his loyalty—prove himself to everyone else and not just Ichirou—, he doesn’t care. Not right now. Not when Andrew is by his side.


End file.
